#wanted to draw him cause of this ty

[lotus-pear]

mourning black and the death of ideals

[todayisafridaynight]

daigo lurking in the hot topic until finally someone asks him if he works there and he just has to awkwardly be like no...... sorry......

[peachesofteal]

Simon with herding instinct on that physio snippet.... God what I'd do to be Reader (I'm not sick but I'm KO by my period, so I think I also deserve herding instincts and a cup of tea made by someone who is not me)

I think you deserve a little treat for your body torturing you Same reader as this (female reader)

"Fuck." You draw a deep breath through your nose and blow it out slowly, trying to push the pain away. You have a busy schedule today, and the 141 was expected to be back which meant you'd have the Lieutenant on your table at some point between now and twenty one hundred.

You do not have time for period pain.

Your appointments waltz in and out through the day, your focus turning from the stabbing, burning ache in your belly, quads and lower back, until the clock finally ticks down to nineteen hundred, and you slump over in your chair. A moment's reprieve, a second to get off your feet, exhaustion sinking into you, your longing for your bed and a heating pad stealing the whole of your attention. You can almost feel it, the hot shower, the comfort of your sheets, a cup of tea. Almost.

For now, you swallow more paracetamol and hope it lasts you through the rest of the day.

The door to the clinic swings open, and you don't need to peek outside the door of your office to know who it is.

No one has footsteps as heavy as his.

The Lieutenant.

The man you do not understand. The one who treated you like a small, fragile animal when you were sick, barging into your house and forcing you onto the couch, doling out medicine and hand feeding you warm broth. He pressed cold cloths to your forehead, held your hair and rubbed your back as you vomited.

The entire time you trembled with nerves, staring at the stitching of his balaclava, looking away each time his face turned towards yours. He hated you, why was he here?

Your fever broke, he disappeared. And the next time you saw him-

He went back to treating you just as he always did.

Coldly. Gruffly. Rudely.

Tonight would be no different.

So when you step outside and see him still in his full kit, arms folded across his chest, you wilt, already defeated, stomach tying itself in knots.

"Need m'back looked at." He barks and you fight the instinct to jump.

"Yeah, o-of course." The words are unsteady, you're unsteady, just like each time before, and he doesn't say anything else, just looks you up and down before brushing by you to get to the table.

He's the width of your workspace. Wingspan larger than should be humanly possible, width of his shoulders and back difficult to comprehend. He could tear you apart, if he wanted, so you've always treated him so carefully, staying focused, making sure you don't slip up and push his muscles too far or cause him pain. It's the same care you apply to all your patients, but with him, it's different. It's like diffusing a bomb.

His head is turned towards you as your fingers walk down the middle of his spine, working pressure points. Every time he twitches, or grunts, or even breathes deeply, you tense, but you keep your focus, kneading down to his sciatic nerve, pushing in deep, deep enough to make him groan, your heartbeat pulsing in your ears.

You don't even realize he's saying your name until he shifts on the table.

"S-sorry?" His eyes are locked the space between your legs, and you follow his sight line, gasping when you see what he sees.

Red.

Your standard issue khaki pants are stained dark red at your thighs.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, I'm sorry, I'm," you stumble backwards, hands flying to cover yourself, scrambling on how to get yourself out of the room and into the bathroom as quickly as possible. Your cheeks burn from humiliation. "I'm sorry, I uh- I'll be right back."

"Do you have another pair of pants?" He cocks his head.

I don't... I don't think so."

"Hmm." He continues to stare, and then, like he was having a conversation with himself, he swings off the table, reaching for the jacket he showed up in, before stalking towards you.

You stumble back, but you're too slow, and he catches you by your wrist, tugging you forward. You close your eyes. "Lieutenant-"

"Hush." The jacket goes around your waist, giant sleeves tied at your navel, the length of the hanging directly over where your pants are stained. You're not petite by any means, so the fact that this garment can even begin to cover you is a miracle in itself. But then again, he is massive. "Stay." He moves around the room, ducking into the other one with your desk, flicking the lights off, before grabbing the keys off the hook and shepherding you through the clinic to the front door.

"What... what're you doing?" There's a murderous look in his eye when he turns to you, and it freezes your blood.

"Takin' you home."

"I can get h-home myself." You hate the way your voice shakes.

"Covered in blood? You really want the entire base to see you like tha'?" The shame burns, and tears build on your waterline. "C'mon." His hand settles between your shoulder blades, essentially turning you into a ship with no sails, only a rudder at your back. Him.

He steers you into your house by your hips. You live directly off base, in civilian housing, luckiest of them all, if you're being honest, though in this moment, you're not sure you are so lucky.

"Leave your clothes in the sink." He orders when he lets you go, moving towards the kitchen.

"My clothes?"

"You know how to get bloodstains out of your clothes?"

"Oh, uh... n-no."

"Then..." he motions with his hands for your pants.

"Right now?" You squeak, and he nods.

"Now, pet." You fumble with the zipper and the button, hands trembling so bad you struggle with them. "Need help?"

"No! No... I got it." you get them down to your knees after a struggle, and then kick them off. Will he ask for your underwear too? He answers like he can ready your mind.

"Leave 'em on the bathroom floor. Shower, and then straight to bed."

"I'm not a child!" The protest is bold, boldest you've ever been with him, insecure, scared feelings coming forth in the outburst.

"Could've fooled me. Children need takin' care of, jus' like you." The words jam in your throat, stolen by the intensity of a cramp, and his eyes soften. "Go on up. I'll bring you somethin' for the pain, and some tea." There's no fight left in you, drained like the blood from your body, and your shoulders slump.

An hour later, in the dark, your door cracks. You're curled up in a ball, heating pad tucked against your pubic bone, buried beneath a mountain of blankets when the bed dips, the mass of the Lieutenant's weight settling next to your hip.

He sits you up, like a doll. Makes you take more paracetamol, finish a glass of water, and then pushes a hot tea in your hand.

By the time he's done, you slump back against the pillows, exhausted. Your eyelids go heavy, and he shifts you back to your side. You're too tired to argue with him, fight him, and when his fingers start applying counter pressure to your lower back, working through the tension, the tightness from your period, you let out a low moan. He chuckles. The man actually laughs.

"Why are you here?" You murmur in the dark, and he doesn't answer right away, sitting in the silence for too long.

And then-

"My mum always taught me to take care of my things."

[nottsangel]

me knowing good and goddamn well i would let theo piss inside me and then fuck it all right out of me 🥰💕✨

tw piss !!!!!!!!

“amore… i‘m sorry, i gotta go to the bathroom real quick, yeah?” theo grunts, annoyed with himself as you lie in front of him, face down and ass up, glistening cunt on display and eagerly waiting for him to enter you.

“hmm. no, you don’t...” you reply, your voice teasing as you gaze back at him with a mischievous glint on your eyes and a naughty smirk playing on your lips, making it even harder for him to leave you, his hands roughly squeezing the skin of your soft ass. he narrows his eyes and he tilts his head slightly in confusion, puzzled how you would know the state of his full bladder better than he does, but then you continue, all while teasingly pressing your ass against his aching cock.

“…not when you have me here.” and that’s when the realisation finally hits him— his eyes momentarily widen, and a low chuckle escapes his throat in disbelief before his hand reels back and the palm abruptly meets your delicate skin, harshly smacking your ass and leaving a stinging red mark.

“you surprise me every day, you know that?” a satisfied smile creeps onto your face, more than glad that he picked up on your hint, even though you knew he would. piss play wasn’t anything new for either of you, but him releasing inside of you is a fantasy you’ve had for a long time, and you’re more than eager to try it.

“fuuuuck.” he drawls as he slowly pushes into you, feeling him enter you inch by inch, deeper and deeper before he bottoms out, with his hand reaching forward to forcefully push your head into the mattress. he draws closer to you, his lips planting gentle kisses on your bare back, followed by feeling his hot breath against your neck, the scent of his musky cologne filling your nostrils.

“such dirty girl, aren’t you? so fuckin’ disgusting.” he growls in a low, almost primal tone, right as you suddenly feel an unfamiliar pool of warmth deep inside of you, the foreign sensation surprisingly pleasant as droplets of hot piss slowly trickle down the insides of your thighs.

“mmm fuck, it feels— it feels so warm.” you let out a breathy moan at the feeling of your walls being completely stretched by his thick cock and the liquid filling the empty spaces deep inside of you. it feels so disgusting too, but surprisingly, that only turns both of you on even more, with his piss and your arousal mixing together inside of you.

once he lets it all out, he slowly pulls his cock back until he’s almost fully out of you, before harshly slamming himself back into you with a deep, hard thrust, causing you to suddenly jolt forward and his piss to messily splash everywhere.

“look at you— completely at my mercy, huh? stuffed with both my cock and piss. such a dirty fuckin’ slut for me.” he has one hand pressed firmly on your head, pushing you down, while the other tightly holds your hips, arching your back in ways you didn’t know were humanly possible, before slamming back into you again, the wetness inside your cunt only adding to the immense pleasure.

“‘s pathetic how turned on you get by all this.” theo hoarsely groans as he quickly sets a steady rhythm, eliciting loud moans from you and low grunts along with italian curse words slipping from his lips. slick, wet sounds with each thrust echo throughout the room, as he messily fucks his own piss right out of you, leaving a mess all over both of you and the soft, satin sheets beneath you.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, theo! you’re so— so fucking big!” “hmm. keep talkin’ like that bella, and i’ll fill you up with my cum too. want you to feel every drop of it deep inside of you.”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request some domestic Ford x Reader headcanons? Just how they would live together either before portal or after the portal (or both hehe). Ty!

Given how dedicated Ford is to his work, it’s more often then not did you find him sleeping on or in places he probably shouldn’t, you’d try and make his position a little more comfortable by covering him with a blanket or putting a pillow or two under his head in hopes of preventing a crooked neck.

You’d press a kiss to the top of his head and whispered sweet dreams to him, unknown to you that after everything with Bill Ford had became a light sleeper, and so would feel touched whenever you take care of him in small but meaningful ways.

This sweet yet insufferable nerd would find himself captivated by you so much doing mundane things that he ends up drawing them in his note book subconsciously. So much to the point where when he pulls himself out of his own mind, he finds several two page spreads dedicated to you feeding stray cats, talking and or playing with Dipper and Mabel, giving Waddles a bath, or just you standing in the kitchen first thing in the morning looking haggard but beautiful none the less.

Physical touch is his love language followed by acts of service to make up for the fact that he spends most of his time in the lab more so then by your side like he should as your partner. you knew how much his work meant to him but Ford could clearly see the glimmers of his neglect within your eyes when you tell him you understand that his work was high priority.

It hurt him to know that he was the one causing the distance between you two and he felt as though you shouldn’t compromise yourself just to better suit him and his wants and needs. So he’ll always try to make up for his neglect and try to spend his mornings with you by making you breakfast and bring it to bed for you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. Ford only wanted to repay you for being there for him while condemning himself for not tearing the favour.

‘Normally you’d be in the lab by now.’ You pointed out as you watched as he slipped back into bed with you, something he rarely did since he was more often than not fast asleep on that makeshift bed down in the lab.

Ford feels just how cold his side of your supposedly shared bed was and could only imagine the amount of times where you’ve fell asleep alone, dreaming of the day where he’d come up and join you, only to frequently be greeted with the sight of an empty and cold mattress instead of him.

Why he never comes to your shared room was a mystery to even himself as he felt it went a lot deeper then him just being sleepy, was it because he didn’t feel as though he should share a bed with you after the amount of times he has neglected you for his work? Possibly but he wanted to change that and stop being absent in your relationship.

‘I fear I haven’t been the best of romantic partners as of late and for that I must apologise and make things right by you.’ He replied and you placed a hand over his own, squeezing it reassuringly. ‘I won’t disagree with you there but please take your time Ford, I’m not going anywhere.’ You tell him softy and Ford was once again proven why he didn’t deserve you nor your kindness.

So Ford would slowly start to do things for you that he knew you were less then wanting to do unless it was the last resort whether it be washing the dishes or tying your shoes when the laces come undone and you huff in annoyance. Anything that maybe an inconvenience to you Ford will do for you instead so that you don’t have to bother with it.

He’s got a good memory and knows your likes and dislikes like the back of his hand and he treasures this knowledge greatly, no notebook needed when it comes to you that you feel seen and loved whenever he remembers the little bits about you that would go over someone’s head.

Like how you like your morning drink, how you like your sandwiches cut, your favourite flower, your favourite memory-which was of the time the Mabel drew on him and thrown glitter on his red turtleneck while covering his hands in her sticker collection- and how you loved to steal his turtlenecks because you miss him whenever he’s in the lab.

So he starts to leave his favoured red turtleneck where he knows you frequent as he hides nearby to watch you smile softly and wear the turtleneck for the rest of the day. Whatever made you happy made him happy in return, being in a relationship with him may have not been that easy but he thanked you for staying with him when you could’ve left him.

Listens to you speak and could listen to you talk the day away and it could pertain to anything and everything, Ford just likes hearing you speak passionately about things you loved or have experienced while out in town and come home just to tell him. So much so that he gets this look in his eye whenever you speak about your daily activity that you’d have to stop and ask; ‘what’s with that look in your eye?’

He doesn’t understand what you meant by that and asks himself; ‘what look my dear?’

You: the one that you get whenever you’re really interested in what I’m saying, even if it’s boring.

Ford: because what you’re saying is investing to me, even if it may seem boring to you but to me I’m just being feed more reasons why I adore you.

You burrow your head into the Turtleneck you stole from him because of the feelings he brought out within your chest.

You would return the favour by listening to him speak his mind about the oddities of Gravity Falls in depth and his theories about how many more of them could be out there, waiting to be discovered and documented. He even told you about the time he drop kicked Gnomes once, the mental image of it made you laugh.

Ford is a bit of a homebody when it comes to date nights, not for any reason in particular, other than the fact he wanted to be focused on you and only you. So Mabel helps him plan for these dates in extensive detail, even if it was written in glittery pink gel pen. Most of the time you spend it on the roof of the shack where you can watch the stars come out while enjoying the others company.

It wasn’t much but it was much to you and Ford as you rest your head on his shoulder, take in the fact that he was here with you and inevitably fall asleep on his shoulder after he rests his head atop of your own, whispering sweet dreams to you this time before he manages to carry you back to bed; where this time he joins you and brings you into his arms tightly before falling asleep himself, warning his side of the bed at long last.

Also you probably have to patch him up after he goes out monster hunting, the man maybe smart be he’s often times reckless with himself. Also kiss his scars please he’ll love you for infinity if you did so, and also kiss his hands for he had gotten unnecessarily picked on about and call them his unique gift that he shouldn’t be ashamed of, you thought having six fingers was cool. You’ll have that man melting faster then butter if you do and you get to see his hardened face become soft and tender that you can’t help but smother in kisses.

[lovebugism]

Im a very indecisive person but I guess I'll go with “Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” with Eddie, if you have any inspiration for this prompt 💕

ty for requesting!! — you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him (grump!reader, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, shameless succession reference, 1.9k)

“Please, tell me you’re joking,” you mumble through the melting vanilla shake on your tongue.

Robin grins at you across the table and shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You are officially looking at Vicki Carmichael’s latest odyssey.”

You and Eddie look over your shoulder at Steve. He stands at the front counter and fumbles with the straw dispenser — hitting the lever repeatedly, with an increasingly rougher touch when nothing comes out. He flounders when they all spill out at once. 

He’s lucky he’s so pretty.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Eddie announces from beside you after stealing a sip of your milkshake. He squints and fights off a brain freeze. “Why didn’t he just tell us? He’s screwing the hottest girl in town— it feels like something he’d brag about.”

“I’m sitting right here,” you scoff, mostly kidding.

“‘Cause he knew you guys would totally ream him for it,” Robin answers and pinches fry crumbs into her mouth. Through a mouthful of them, she says, “It’s not like you’re usually supportive about this kinda stuff.”

“I’m all for Steve being a slut, okay?” you defend with your hands up in surrender. “But I do draw the line at my best friend fucking the girl who bullied me in high school.”

“What’d she do?” Eddie asks. You can’t tell if he really cares or if he just wants something new to laugh at you for, but you decide to humor him anyway.

“She cut out the boobs of my gym shirt before class because she knew if I dressed out again, I was getting detention,” you explain, smiling when it makes the table laugh. “I had to run the mile with my bright pink sports bra showing, but at least my record was clean.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Steve wonders aloud when he returns to the table, carrying the only straw that hadn’t fallen to the floor. He slides into the booth next to Robin and looks at the three of you expectantly.

“Nothing.” the brunette girl chirps.

“You,” Eddie deadpans.

You squint. “Real smooth, Munson.”

“Wait, what?”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, Vicki Carmichael? Seriously?”

Steve gapes at Robin, features yawned in betrayal. “You told them?” 

The girl shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and playing coy.

“She’s hot and everything, but she’s really not your type, man.”

Steve’s eyes narrow across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean, freak?”

“She likes bad boys,” you answer for him, shrugging like it’s obvious. “You know, the Billy Hargrove types. With tattoos and leather jackets and long hair. And, no offense, but you’re the furthest thing from that.”

“I think you just described me, doll,” Eddie laughs.

“Weren’t you screwing around with Billy Hargrove a couple months ago?” Steve wonders with a knowing, honeyed squint.

“Shut up, Harrington,” you bite.

Eddie grins with all his teeth, pink and boyish and proud. “Oh, so you’re screwing guys that are just like me now, huh? I’m flattered.”

“If anything, you’re the dollar store version of Billy Hargrove, Munson,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to the milkshake in front of you. You stab holes in the thick ice cream and try to ignore the sudden attention.

All the eyes on you make you nervous. You were never good at being the butt of the joke. ‘Cause when you get embarrassed, you get mean. Like some kinda hurt dog.

“You have everything but the looks.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie snorts and snatches the frosted glass away from you. He slides it over to his side of the table and sips from the straw that has your lipstick stained on the tip of it. “You can’t insult me—”

“Can’t I?”

“—Not when you’re fucking a carbon copy of me,” he scoffs and tries to ignore the jealousy burning wildfires behind his ribcage.

“He’s nothing like you,” you insist.

“He’s exactly like me. Just blonde. And watered down,” Eddie argues, face twisted with disgust. He smiles when it makes everyone else laugh but you. “I mean, it’s kinda sad, actually. I turned you down, so you had to try it out with Hargrove?”

“I didn’t try it, first of all, I fucking conquered it,” you retort, not exactly joking but grinning when it makes Steve and Robin chuckle to themselves. “And second of all, I never wanted you, Munson. So there was never anything to turn down.”

Your words sting somewhere deep in his chest. Like there’s a knife lodged deep in his heart that aches every time he breathes. He doesn’t know what to do with this hurt other than hurt you back. 

“So that night you told me you liked me after my show— that was all a lie?” he asks, smirking to hide his ache.

Robin’s eyes go wide as she bites into her burger. “What is this? A sleepover?” she scoffs with her mouth full. “Why is everyone telling each other’s secrets?”

“You started it, Buckley,” Steve quips before stealing one of her fries.

Your answer is immediate. A total lie, but instant nonetheless. No one’s gonna out-insult you. Rarely ever do you come out of petty arguments without having drawn the most blood.

“Yeah! You bombed, and I felt bad, and I wanted to make you feel better,” you confess with a sinister giggle. “What I really wanted to say is that I wish your mom had given birth to a can opener because at least then it might be good at something.”

Eddie meets your smirk with a glower, something genuinely pained that makes your chest sting. You refuse to show it, though. Not even when he slides out of the booth. “Yeah, okay. Fuck you,” he mumbles to himself as he goes.

“What?” you scoff a cynical laugh.

“C’mon,” Steve murmurs quietly to you. “That was a little too far.”

“Oh, so he can make fun of me, but I can make fun of him?”

“It’s different. You know that.”

You roll your eyes even though you know he’s right. Eddie’s a clown, but he means well. He’s a dumbass because he doesn’t know how to be serious about anything, but he’s hardly ever outright mean. 

You’re made of something more hardened than that. You set fires all around you, and only when a person walks through it do you know they really care. You don’t mean to be so mean half the time. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything. A time-bomb you never really learned to defuse.

“It was a joke, Eds!” you shout as he storms the short distance to the entrance of the diner.

“Well, surprise. I have feelings—” he grins, though there’s little emotion behind it. The door dings over his head when he shoves it open. He reaches for the crushed packet of cigarettes in his pocket. “—And you just hurt them.”

The diner feels strangely silent with him gone. The air feels noticeably heavy, too. 

You reach for the milkshake he left on his side of the table and slide it audibly back over to you. You don’t sip from it, though. Your stomach’s too much in knots now. You just busy your fidgeting hands with it, holding the frosted glass in your delicate palms until they ache.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumble, not meeting the silent looks Robin and Steve give you across the booth.

“Go talk to him before you give him a complex.”

“Yeah,” the boy hums with a knowing smile. “Go kiss and make up.”

“Shut up,” you bite with a scrunched-together face. You deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go— but not because you told me to.”

You hear them laugh quietly to themselves as you walk out behind Eddie. 

He leans against the corner of the old building and blows smoke from his lungs. He looks relatively unfazed despite the circumstances. You swallow down the worry that you’re embarrassing yourself by being out here at all.

Your shoes scuff against the sidewalk as you near him. “Eds—”

“I’m fine,” he interjects before you can say anything real. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Well, it’s too late. Steve and Robin already kicked me out here, so…” You trail off in a monotone, despite having already declared that you were out here not because you were told to be. He doesn’t need to know that, though. “…I’m sorry.”

He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers, then shrugs on the exhale. “Okay.”

“The can opener thing was stupid— I mean, it wasn’t nice either, but it was a really dumb joke,” you ramble without taking a single breath. You cross your arms over yourself in a makeshift shield. “You didn’t even bomb that night. At your show or whatever. I lied. You were… You were actually really good.”

Eddie turns his head slowly. He blinks at you with chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement.

You cower under his stare. “What?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he insists with a crooked smile.

“What?” you repeat, forcing a laugh.

“You’re fucking with me,” he chuckles and brings the cig back to his mouth. He mumbles through the stick. “But it’s cool, you know? I can cope.”

“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you argue. And then, when your chest starts to sting, it becomes impossible not to make a joke. “I think you’re a… super-talented superstar—”

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he interjects with a sincere laugh, like honey and gunpowder.

You giggle, and the foreign tension ebbs.

“I’m just kidding,” you assure and prop your back against the wall beside him. “Well, I mean, I’m not, but I…” You stammer when you can’t find the words. You gesture wildly with your hands. “I do think you’re talented, it’s just— It’s hard for me to be serious, okay? But I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, tossing the cigarette to the ground and snuffing the ash with his sneaker. “Trust me. I know what you mean.”

You swallow hard. “And I wasn’t… What I said to you that night, in your van after the show… I wasn’t lying.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He blinks at you with a gaping gaze, even though you’re not looking at him to see it. You’re much more focused on the dumpster across the street, lest you meet his eyes and get embarrassed all over again. 

This is the realest you’ve ever been with him, you think — since you told him you liked him and he all but turned you down.

Being vulnerable has been impossible since then.

“Then why’d you never talk to me about it again?” he asks, then stammers over himself. “You acted like it never even happened— I thought I fucking— like, dreamt it or some shit.”

“Because you didn’t say anything back! I thought you didn’t feel the same way!”

“I was just— I was just shocked. You always act like you hate me!”

“Because I like you, you idiot!” you blurt before you mean to, then huff with impatience at yourself. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be nice to people I like.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie laughs, shifting on the brick wall until his shoulder rubs against it. He looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time — glittering with the hope of finally getting close to you, of finally having something real.

“Don’t laugh!” you argue. “I’m trying really hard here!”

“I know,” he murmurs lowly, leaning in until you can taste the nicotine on his breath. In a honeyed tone, he confesses, “It’s a good thing I like you mean, then, huh?”

Your heart lurches into your throat. He smirks when you freeze, and knocks his shoulder against yours when he heads back into the diner.

The game of cat and mouse continues.

[caotictimmy]

I ATE THE WHOLE DAISUKE DATING HC AND I MUST SAY ALL THE BRAINROT THAT HAS BEEN STEWING IN MY MIND!!!

I think he's such a golden retriever bf 😭 like both ways— sfw and nsfw. HES SO DOWN BAD FOR YOU, he loves you so much and fjdkkd if his partner also has physical contact as a primary love language, he would die for headpats. Like genuinely, give this guy headpats be when you two are cuddling or when you are both in an intimate moment. You could reward him with a little patpat on the head when Swansea is not looking, and he would lean in to your touch a little bit before reminding himself, he needs to learn!! he needs to make you proud

NOW NSFW-WISEE.....

Praise kink goes so hard on him is insane

He could be eating you out with sparkles in his eyes, almost like asking if he's doing a good job, and if you do express it, tell him he's such a good boy, how good you are feeling because of HIM, he's going to go harder on you out of pure happiness—hes doing a good job!! you're like this because of his work and that amazes him

i could write more but my mind is a mess and im so sleepy wnwnkd.

🐁 out!!!

🐁 anon I love your thinking please don’t spontaneously combust. BUT IM SO GLAD THE HIM LIKING HIS HAIR/HEAD TOUCHED IS CATCHING ON OMG….

Sfw headcanons/thoughts

- Now that I’m thinking of it. I should have known he’d like head pats. LIKE I ALREADY GOT THE GOLDEN RETRIEVER BF VIBE FROM HIM.

- But he definitely loves getting head pats or his hair ruffled! Specifically he really likes it after/is doing something good. Like normal head pats are fine but. Knowing your giving him them because he did something good?!?!

- You guys have definitely gotten called weirdos by Swansea, cause you patted Daisuke’s head. Swansea wont say anything cause this man is emotionally constipated 💔. But he’s glad Daisuke has someone who Daisuke can be his true weird self.

- If your hand is somewhere close to his head, and he wants head pats. Daisuke will head butt his head against your hand to show he wants you to either play with his hair, pat his head, scratch his scalp, etc ect.

- I think like the first time he head butt your hand for attention was when y’all were cuddling. You had your hand by his head. And you weren’t taking hid obvious hints! (Slightly nudging at you). So well he just thunked his head against your hand. Ever since then he keeps doing that when he wants you to play with his hair

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (mostly AFAB some Gn )

- Omg please pull his hair. PLEASE. He loves it so much. Like holy moly. If you pull his hair while he’s deep inside. HES COMING IMMEDIATELY! Like pull just right and omg. It’s like a switch in his brain. And that man is going HARDER AND FASTER. Like I hope to burnt curly Anya can lend you a wheel chair.

- Omg just imagine Daisuke pulling his hair back during sex. OMG MY GYATTTT. Guys I see the light and it’s Daisuke pulling his hair back.

-(AFAB) I just thought of something. GYAHH IMAGINE SEEING DAISUKE TIES HIS HAIR BACK TO EAT YOU OUT(might need to make this into a FIC).I’m Actually foaming at the mouth. Guys wait let me cook.

“wait!”. Daisuke said. Before rolling a hair tie he had on his wrist for working on machines. Biting it as he collects his hair. Tying it up in a ponytail. Before pushing his sleeves up. Daisuke Looks back at You with a smile. “Now I’m ready” he say cheekily.

- Guys someone please draw Daisuke with a sexy man ponytail please I’ll be in debt with you. PLEASE HE’LL LOOK SO HOT JUST TRUST MY VISON!!!!

-(AFAB) Omg and grip his hair while he’s eating you out. Like omg if you’re pulling at his hair moaning. He’s gonna feel so good about himself knowing he’s pleasing you. Also if you ever shoved his face in your cunt while he’s eating you out. You gave yourself a death wish. CAUSE THIS MAN WILL NOT STOP UNTIL YOU HAVE TO PULL HIS HEAD AWAY.

You couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like he couldn’t stop. The pleasure was getting to much. You gripped his hair. Feeling him moan in you. You pull his head back, letting out that breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You could hear him catching his breath before hearing him let out a sad noise. You looked down seeing Daisuke giving you these sad puppy dog eyes. “Did I do something wrong.” He asked, genuinely concerned.

“No no! Just needed-“. You huffed, “need..need a moment.” You said dazed. He paused for a moment. The glimmer in his eyes back with a vengeance. He starts to grin. “Did I..” He started. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, cleaning your slick off around his mouth. “Did I do good?” He asked. Daisuke happily looking up at you waiting for your response. His grin got wider as he felt your hand rub against his head.

Authors note: GYAHH I LOVED THIS REQUEST SMMMM. Like, reblogd, and especially comments are appreciated! This was so fun writing thud.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

I am going FERAL over this imagine:

So basically Bruce brings reader home to be his new daughter/the boys' new sibling but Uh Oh! They now want you carnally and reader is just like "you said you wanted me as a daughter/sibling, wtf is this" and being their platonic darling is better than being shared between them romantically so reader tries to come off as innocent and child/sibling coded by being like "yeah I've never actually kissed or dated anyone before aren't I just so innocent" and the boys are like :)))

So then Dick says you can call him your boyfriend "just to feel it out" and Tim starts blatantly stealing your panties and Jason says he can give you your 1st kiss so you can "practice" with him and Bruce offers to teach you how to touch yourself and (and him) and when you try to walk it back cause the boys are being Freaks they're in their delulu era so eventually you end up tied to the bed with the boys and Bruce drawing straws over who gets to take what 1sts (like 1st date, kiss, virginity, ect).

And Damien is just in the background absolutely SEETHING cause the the boys and Bruce's Horny Time keeps interrupting his Mommy Time with the reader

And reader using Damien as kind of a shield cause what are they going to do, feel you up in front of a CHILD? Like just, "Stay Platonic :))"

Just that kind of pseudo incest makes me Feel Things (*/∀＼*)(///∇///)

I'd love your thoughts/a fic based on this! Ty ❤️

TW: Brief mentions of pseudo incest(y) scenarios/behavior, manipulative tactics, yandere tendencies

(Okay so I’ll answer this with my thoughts for right now.)

I know I primarily write incest(y) related topics for my Game of Thrones/ASOIAF stuff but I have been tempted to/curious about branching it out into some of the other fandoms I write for 👀. (I’ve had a few ideas rolling around in my noggin for a bit if anyone is interested.) So I would be willing to give this a try. I’m down to experiment with some new stuff, within reason of course.

I imagine the Reader being older (probably 19-23), maybe even having been a runaway of sorts or not having a very stable home life, so when they’re given the ‘offer’ to become part of the family they’re looking to fulfill a familial void they’ve never experienced or have forgotten how it’s felt like. I definitely see Bruce and the rest of the boys keeping a very close eye on the Reader before they decide to finally bring them into their family, basically full on stalking them from the moment they caught their attention (you know how the Batfam works). It wouldn’t be a surprise if even before the Reader was with them physically that the boys developed a more carnal desire for them. At first, their intentions were completely platonic, but with all the lengthy observing and information gathering of their supposed-to-be-new-family-member eventually something changed in how they all saw their darling.

I really see the change in their obsession starting with either Dick or Tim first. Especially regarding some accidental or purposeful peeping Tom foolery. I feel like Bruce would be the last to fall victim to the change in direction or at the very least he’s the last one to admit to it. If Damian is younger than I see his obsession staying strictly platonic, but if he were much older than I could see him involving himself to the same depths as his family.

At first, I see things happening subtly. Knowing that at the very least a few of them are already in an obsessive-romantic headspace in regards to their darling before they even physically become part of the family the guys would try to be as welcoming as possible without revealing their true intentions. They don’t want to scare you off right away, they want you to walk into it semi-willingly at least. But the interactions with the Reader would show something else. The lingering touches, the being much closer to you than really necessary, the heated grazes over your clothes here and there that leave you wondering if that actually happened or not. I also kind of like the other members not being fully aware of each other’s change in obsession, everyone giving each other the side eye until it sets in and then all out war of who gets the darling to themself unfolds only to eventually end up with them working together and agreeing to share. That’s when Bruce’s heel-turn is revealed.

Once things get truly amped up, the interactions with the Reader really begin to escalate. The boys would walk around shirtless more often, all of them trying to get their darling to look at them, to really look at them. Eventually, it’s not just them being shitless but either them in nothing but their underwear or nothing at all. They start out as accidents but eventually it’s pretty loud and clear that the guys want you to see them, all of them, to even touch them and feel them to your hearts content. But thats not all, of course it’s not. The touching of their darling only gets all the more intense, to the point that you know damn well that they’re touching you and they want to leave you wanting for more. So much more. The Reader’s innocence and lack of experience would only spur them on even more. They absolutely thrive off of it. They all want to be your first, your first everything. There will be a lot of secret ‘lessons’ being given behind closed doors and telling of “Don’t tell Batdaddy or he’ll get real mad.” “Don’t let Jay know, or he’ll want to punish you for not doing this with him.” “Let this be our secret, (Name). Something just for you and me.” “Can’t tell anyone about this or they’ll ruin it for the both of us.” And they only get even worse from there.

I can’t see Alfred being okay with this in any situation, whatsoever. I think he especially would feel like Bruce and the other boys completely took advantage of the Reader and he would try his best to aid them in trying to keep up with the platonic intention of this entire fiasco. He would be a total cockblock, even going as far as helping Damian in his cockblocking endeavors. Alfred’s intention would be to play both sides so he knows how to help the Reader when it comes to Bruce and the others but it wouldn’t take too long for them to figure out that Alfred is working against them. Like, Alfred was all for the familial-platonic obsession but when things started getting more romantic he was ready to shut that shit down ASAP. You can’t tell me he hasn’t, at least a few times, locked Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim out of the house to give the Reader some peace and give Damian his much deserved allotted time with them.

Speaking of Damian, he is a menace (as per usual) but even more so than normal. He really doesn’t take too well to the new direction of his father’s and brothers’ obsession for the Reader. He thinks it’s pretty messed up but he sincerely likes and cares about the Reader and he wants them to stay, he wants them to continue being a part of the family forever so he’ll let some things slide. Some. He even may be willing to look the other way when it eventually comes to Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim baby-trapping the Reader if it means this whole ‘family’ thing becomes set in stone with the arrival of a new ‘sibling’. But for the most part, at least early on, Damian would be a huge pain in the ass for the other family members. He feels like he needs to step in to save his darling from the others and their ulterior motives. He’s all his parental/older sibling figure needs, at least at that point. He may even try to runaway with them to keep them safe from the others. Hell, he may even get his mother involved if he was desperate enough, especially if he saw the Reader as a parental figure. Or maybe even another Justice League member to either adopt him and the Reader so that he could have that family experience he was promised with the Reader. Or he would be completely content just living the rest of his life just him and the Reader, platonically of course.

It would either take Bruce or Dick to have a talk with Damian to get him to come to some agreement to allow them to continue with what they’re doing in regards to the Reader. I think Dick would get away with manipulating Damian much better than Bruce could. I think Damian would have some opinions about his father especially throughout this whole situation. Especially since I see Damian being very observant of how Dick, Jason and Tim are behaving towards the Reader early on and picking up on the fuckery taking place, even going as far as telling Bruce about it under the belief his father would be on his side (not ever fathoming the idea of his father also doing similar things to the Reader without him ever knowing). As far as Damian knew his father was completely platonic towards the Reader, as a ‘father’ should be. Right? So understandably Damian feels not only betrayed but also disgusted when he finds out that his father was and still is taking part in, acting in a similarly depraved fashion as the others.

Eventually, I could see them coming together and being one big ‘happy’ family. But it sure as hell comes at a price. (Usually the Reader’s freedom and sense of self outside of the obsession they’ve been dragged into, to drown in alongside their yandere(s).)

[goosita]

trying to work when you're sick as young!politician!snow's secretary would be hard, but not for the reason you might think

you've been sniffling since yesterday afternoon, but this morning when you woke up, you felt like you'd been hit by a train. every muscle in your body was sore, your throat hurt, your nose was running and you could tell you had at least a lowgrade fever. you glanced at your alarm clock next to your bed and groaned, seeing that you'd woken up just a little while before it was set to go off anyway.

you thought about calling in sick, but you've never done it before. were you supposed to call....coriolanus? directly? he was your only boss, you worked solely for him. but that thought made you feel even worse than your illness did. you knew that he had a busy day today full of meetings and work calls, and that you needed to be there to help organize his schedule. you couldn't stand the thought of disappointing him.

you sucked it up and took the hottest shower you could stand in efforts to clear your sinuses and stop the fever-induced chills wracking your body every few minutes. you knew coriolanus liked for you to look put-together in pretty dresses and heels, but today you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. you dressed in a loose blouse and pair of wide-leg trousers that felt comfortable enough, shoving your feet into flat shoes. good enough.

so now here you are, bundled in your sweater you keep at the office and trying hard to manifest that nobody will notice your red and raw nose or your watery eyes, least of all coriolanus. the wish goes ungranted, prayer unanswered as he strolls in and immediately stops and stares at you.

"what's wrong?" he asks.

"oh, um. just a little cold," you answer, voice nasally and much lower in pitch than normal. coriolanus frowns at you and shrugs his coat off, hanging it up and walking straight over to you to press the back of his hand to your forehead.

"you're burning up."

his lips turn down even further, not noticing the way you freeze at his sudden touch. coriolanus has been a lot more...touchy with you lately, but even still, this amount of concern is unexpected. his brows furrow at you, looking at you for a long moment. he carefully brushes your hair out of your face, looking over you and taking note of your outfit and general state. you can tell he notices that you've dressed much more comfortably than you usually would, and that your face is makeup-free and hair left at simply brushed through to undo any tangles.

"up," he tells you, gently lifting you out of your chair by your elbow.

"what?"

"let's get you home," he says gently, rubbing a warm and heavy hand up and down your back. "you're in no shape to be here today. i'll have my driver take you back to your apartment."

you look at him confused, unsure what to say. you're not sure if he's upset that you're sick or if he's more worried for your wellbeing, but it makes you anxious that he's acting so abrupt and unceremonious, almost as if you being sick is putting him on edge.

"coryo...?" you ask quietly. he freezes where he stands, having gone to grab your jacket off the coatrack. you watch as his entire demeanor softens.

"yes, miss y/n?"

you swallow hard, wincing at the pain it causes in your throat. "are...are you upset with me?"

coriolanus' eyebrows draw inward and upward at your question, quickly shaking his head.

"oh, no. no, of course not," he breathes, rushing over to help you slide into your coat. "i'm worried about you is all. i don't want you making yourself sicker by being here today, you're clearly very unwell. it's not your fault you're ill."

he carefully zips up your coat, grabbing his red scarf from the rack as well. before you can protest, he's draping it around your neck and tying it.

"for extra warmth," he explains. "it's freezing out there today."

the scarf is so soft where it's tucked beneath your chin, instantly adding more warmth where you need it. coriolanus gives you a tiny smile, lips closed but small dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth.

you're led to the car by him, his hand resting between your shoulder blades the entire time. coriolanus opens the car door for you to slide into the back seat, instructing his driver to take you home and make sure you get into your apartment safe and sound. his voice holds so much authority when he speaks to the driver, a deepness and sternness that's never present when he's addressing you.

by the time you reach your apartment and climb the steps up, there are several beautifully packaged boxes waiting for you at your door, as well as a single red, long-stemmed rose. you tilt your head and bring them inside, opening them one by one to find that coriolanus has had soup, bread, and medicine delivered to you. attached to the rose by a red satin ribbon is a note that simply reads:

"get well soon, darling"

[luveline]

hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad

ty lovely 💌 fem

“Oh,” you say, “of course.” 

You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent. 

How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.

“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?” 

You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?” 

“I heard the engine turn over.”

“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it. 

“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”

James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.

“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.” 

“You don’t have to go?” 

“What?” 

“You have rugby today.” 

“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.” 

James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out. 

“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.

James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.” 

He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. “I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.” 

“So it’s definitely the battery?” 

“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your breath gets caught. 

“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned. 

“I… maybe I did. I think so.” 

“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?” 

“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.

James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.” 

“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.

“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face. 

His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car. 

James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends. 

He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert. 

“What are your plans tonight?” 

Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.” 

“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”

“What do you do with all your time?” 

“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.” 

You startle. “You and Sirius live together?” 

James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?” 

“You come in different cars.” 

“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.” 

James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome. 

That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much. 

To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…

Well, he couldn’t have. Right?

[munsonsmixtapes]

I have a request for Tyler owens. Can the reader give him a little bit of body worship like she licks his abs and makes him insane with need until she sucks his cock and gives him the ride of his life

Tyler Owens x fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) oral (m receiving) nipple play, mention of pregnancy

The hotel room was dim when you and Tyler entered it, your lips connected as you backed him up to the bed. He had been nothing but a gentleman during your date and you had every intention of worshiping him in return.

You pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his waist before unbuttoning his shirt, so slowly, wanting him to beg for it. And feeling his rock hard cock underneath you. He was right where you wanted him.

You looked down at him, his hair an absolute mess from your make out session just moments earlier in the elevator, his pupils blown, looking so hot underneath you.

As soon as you got his shirt unbuttoned, you pressed a kiss to his lips, moving over to his cheek, his jaw, then dropping an to his neck. You trailed kisses down to his collarbone, leaving behind multiple pecks.

“This is supposed to be about you,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s your birthday.” That was the whole reason why you had even gone out of town. He had taken you to New York since it was somewhere you always wanted to go and was fully intending on ravishing you after dinner. Why was he the one being pleasured?

“I’m trying to thank you, Ty,” you told him. “Will you please let me continue?” With the way you were begging, how could he not?

“Alright, hon, do whatever you want.” He laid back down on the bed and closed his eyes as you continued. Your lips moved further down his chest and he let out a gasp as your tongue swiped along his nipple. You then took it into your mouth and his hand grabbed at your dress, his nails digging into your back.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “You really know what you’re doing.”

“I learned from the best,” you winked before continuing to lick and suck on the sensitive skin, Tyler’s hands moving up your dress to scratch up and down your back. You then brought the thing between your teeth and gave it a soft bite, causing him to lose his absolute shit.

“Fuck,” he whined and you took that as an invitation to continue, loving that you could drive the man wild just like he always did to you.

You then moved onto the other nipple, giving it the same attention and now Tyler was scratching your back so hard that you could have sworn that he was going to draw blood. Once you had practically made him cream his pants, you kissed all the way down to where his pants started, unbuckling his belt then pulling then and his underwear down to the tops of his boots.

“Look at you, honey, already dripping for me. Need me to take care of you, hm?” You asked, taking his cock in your hand, slowly dragging it down to the base, hearing the most desperate whines climb up his throat.

“If you want it, you have to beg.” Tyler loved when you took control, absolutely eating up being told what to do.

“Please, honey,” he whined. “Need something.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” you batted your eyelashes at him then began to pump your hand, moving it up and down his dick slowly as you heard the most delicious moans fall from his lips.

Your pumps got faster and you could see his back arching as a scream ripped through him. That had to be a record of some sort, but you supposed that was only because you had been teasing him all night. You were eating your meal in such a sensual way and he was so close to dragging you to the bathroom to have his way with you.

Not only that, but you had looked so hot in the sparkly blue dress that he has bought for you, that there was no way he was going to last during dinner. And he didn’t. He had gotten so hard that he had to take off his suit jacket and drape it over his lap. You knew what you were doing and he was staring to realize that he had created a monster.

Once he had reached his orgasm, you let him take a break before you helped him sit up, spreading his legs so you could fit between them. You then took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the base and he was so close just from watching you.

He leaned back and gripped the bedding tight, his knuckles turning white as you worked on him. One of your hands rested on his knee while the other fisted his balls giving them such a tight squeeze that Tyler could have sworn that he was seeing stars.

You continued to lick and suck, slowly taking more of him into one mouth until you had fit all of him inside. Your eyes were watering and you felt like you were going to choke, but that hardly mattered. You were just so focused on pleasing your man.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, another scream fell from his lips and you felt his cum leak out onto your tongue. You pulled him from your mouth and swallowed before standing. You then reached to the back of your dress and slowly unzipped it, letting it pool at your feel before removing your heels.

Tyler was beyond overstimulated, but he didn’t care. He wanted you to ride him until the early morning. He looked up at you as you undressed, his mouth falling open as he thought again about how lucky he was to have you.

He kicked off his pants and shoes and moved further up the bed as he watched you strip, his eyes filling up with nothing but lust. Now he really needed you to fuck him.

You were standing fully naked in front of him and for a second, it felt like his birthday. You pushed him down on the bed, pinning him there with your hands on his shoulder. You then straddled his waist, your cunt hovering over his cock.

“I don’t want to use to a condom,” you told him.

“We don’t have to. We’re both clear, right?”

“Right, but Tyler, I-I want to have a baby.” His eye widened at your confession, but quickly melted into love as he thought about it. You both had discussed it on multiple occasions and had agreed that you eventually wanted to start a family. He just thought he had more time.

“Hon, I’d love to have a baby with you,” he said with a bright smile as he pushed some of your hair behind your ears.

“So you’re not mad?” You asked, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I could never be mad at you,” he shook his head and pulled you in for a kiss, your teeth clinking together as you could help but smile into it. He then helped you settle onto his cock, his arms wrapping around your waist as yours went to your neck, burying your face into it as you rode him.

It started out slow and sweet, but quickly picked up as you rode him fast and hard, labored breaths and moans fall from your lips as you gave him the ride of his life. It was what he deserved for being the most perfect man you had ever come across.

His lips found yours in a messy kiss as you bounced on his dick, the nastiest moans come from your mouths as your tongues tangled together. You went limp in his arms, but you kept going, determined to make him cum for the third and final time that night.

Your hips bucked against his as you tried to keep up, but you were feeling tired as an orgasm ripped through you, your head falling backwards. Tyler was quick to catch you, deciding that you needed to call it a night because of how fucked out you both were.

And he reached his orgasm not long after, your name falling from him lips as he did so. You then climbed off of him and he cleaned you up before giving you one of his t-shirts and the two of you crawling into bed together.

You fell asleep in each other’s arms, discussing baby names and dreamed of your future as you took the next step together, hoping that your future children could find love like the two of you did.

[taintedcigs]

— hardest of hearts

“darling heart, I loved you from the start. but you'll never know what a fool I've been.” ‹‹ — florence + the machine, hardest of hearts.

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

summary: jealousy has never been your strongest suit. you realize that even better when you see steve and nancy in close proximity. based on this prompt by @dumplingsjinson (wc: 1.6k+)

warnings: just absolute fluff, maybe tiny angst, and making out, they kinda go hard at it for no reason, this is just an excuse for me to ramble abt how pretty steve is bye.

author's note: ohh if u want pls listen to hardest of hearts by florence + the machine when u r reading!! luv that song <3 and again. ignore the corny summary and i didnt proof-read and wrote this shitty thing in 30 mins yada yada!!! based on this amazing request i got from my lolo bean angel @lofaewrites i hope u like it MWAHHHHH!!!!

pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Jealousy.

That ugly feeling clawed at your insides, consuming you whole, bringing out the worst in you and you knew it, yet you couldn't help it. Finding yourself powerless against its caging grip.

The venomous glare you threw at the two of them surely had to burn off Steve's back, but they remained rooted to their spot, talking about whatever the fuck, while Nancy lingered far too close to him for your liking.

Her curls danced in the dim light, swaying with each infectious giggle that escaped her lips at his jokes. The sight of her head thrown back in mirth only made your blood boil more with it.

You wondered what the fuck was so funny that he felt compelled to whisper to her, the sight of them so close to each other had your entire body feeling hot, an ugly feeling consuming you whole. The fragile porcelain filled with alcohol threatened to break under your harsh grip.

And of course, you couldn't help the way you act entirely unreasonable when he comes back to the booth.

Cold, a total raging bitch, your mouth feeling hot the more you snapped at him. And he knew, he knew the exact reason for your attitude. Yet, he couldn't help but find it adorable. How your lips downturn as you scoff at him, just because you're jealous.

You storm out to catch your breath and get some cold air, his footsteps fall into sync behind you, because he can see right through the facade you desperately clung to, see the way your doe eyes flash hurt, thick lashes hiding your disappointment behind the anger.

You lean against the brick wall of the bar, the chilly Hawkins air seeping through the fabric of your coat, almost enough to calm you down before you can hear Steve's hesitant footsteps as he closes the distance between you.

He's making you so pathetic.

The concern in his eyes mirrors the ache in your chest, gaze searching yours for answers you were reluctant to give.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, tone merely honey-glazed.

He didn't let you answer, instead following up with a, "Or are you just... jealous?" That stupid smirk lingers on his lips, making your insides gooey, while you wore that scowl as your mask.

"What?" You scoffed, playing dumb, as you crossed your arms against your chest, almost to protect your feelings.

"Oh my god, you so are," he teases, that damned smirk stretching his mouth into a full grin, reaching all the way to his eyes, causing them to crinkle, so pretty that you are melting all over.

"Shut up, Harrington," you murmur, heat spreading across your cheeks, gaze unable to avoid him. Pools of warm honey-toned brown eyes drawing you in so effortlessly.

"God, do you still not believe me?" He shakes his head with a slight huff, shoulders slumping in defeat.

You know exactly what he's talking about, with the way his brows quirk up, and he tugs at his silky hair in frustration.

Steve told you he liked you. A couple of days ago. But you just scoffed and huffed, rolling your eyes in his face.

You couldn't—more so—you just didn't want to believe it. You thought it was too good to be true.

Couldn't believe that he would want you when he used to be so hung up on Nancy. Blame it on your insecurities, or your attachment issues. Or blame it on the fact that you were scared. So fucking scared.

And you'd rather avoid all of it than have him break your heart. It's unreasonable, but to your idiotic brain, you're being logical.

"H—how do you expect me to when you end up doing shit like this?" Your tone is barely above a whisper, suddenly insecure like you're exposing yourself bare to him. You just need him to convince you. And he knows. He finally knows.

"Like what? Talking to Nancy?" He scoffs, like it's ridiculous. To him it is. That you even can believe the idea that he still thinks about her, when all that invades his mind is you.

"Like talking to your ex, the same ex you were hung up on," you reply back bitterly, words burning your tongue as they barely roll off your lips.

He leans in closer to you, almost to make a point. "Were, like you said." He spits in frustration, "past fucking tense. I moved on, so long ago. You know that."

"And she just said hi, as a friend. Nothing more," he enunciates it carefully and would explain that to you all goddamn night, if it meant it would wash your worries away, he meant every word he said to you. He didn't care about Nancy. It was you. And from now on, it was only going to be you.

You were desperate, so desperate to not show him your true feelings, but of course he could see right through you. "Maybe, maybe she did, but-"

He groans, not even caring that he's interrupting you. "There's no fucking buts, sweetheart, I told you, told you that I fucking liked you, that I wanted you, why do you insist on trying to push me away?"

You gulp when you notice how he has you caged against the textured walls, your back hitting the bricks with a soft thud, his breath flushing your already heated cheeks. "I don't—"

"What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” His words are harsh, not in a rude way, only to get it through your thick skull. Show you how much you actually mean to him.

Rough hands end at your side, that annoying strand of hair falling to his thick lashes, making him look so pretty that you just want his hot mouth on yours. "There is no one else for me but you, and even you can't fucking change my mind, yeah?"

"I don't give a fuck about any other girl unless they're you." Words fall like silk from his lips, and they are heavenly to your ears, blinking quickly to process all of it.

And he enjoys it, sees the way your gaze glimmers, cheeks adorned with a sudden warmth as you give him those doe-eyes that make him want to crumble into you, fully.

You nod dumbfoundedly, almost to let him know that you finally believe him, and he gives you a soft chuckle, raising his brows "Are you going to let me take you out on that date?"

His caramel hues swirl hypnotizingly as they gaze into you, so alluring paired with the striking moles all over his cheek and neck, making you wanna kiss him all over. "Mhmm," you hardly mumble, too focused on taking all of him in.

He reaches up to touch your cheek, fingers brushing against your skin like feather, soft but making you flustered nonetheless, the faint scent of his woodsy perfume invading your senses. "Come on, use your words, honey," he coaxes, fingers leaving goosebumps in its wake as you can feel him all over.

"Y-yeah," you faintly mumble, not so confident in your voice when he looks at you all hungrily.

His mouth slightly curves into a bigger grin, leaning in as he whispers "Atta girl," almost making you whimper at his low tone.

You lean closer, urging his mouth to yours. He groans when you sweep your thumb over his jaw, knees giving out at the sound. Soft candy lips brush against yours, so agonizingly slow that the heat unfurls all over your body.

He takes your slight shock as a moment to slide his tongue inside, a sigh of relief escaping your velvety lips. He tastes like beer, and something sweet, kissing you with so much heat that you can't help the way you melt into him, his touch burning everywhere it makes contact with.

He brings you closer, as if that's even possible, bodies pressed against each other, your breasts flush against his hard chest, and you can almost feel his heart hammering inside, rhythm matching yours.

His cherry-pout mouth suckles at your bottom lip, slight stubble brushes against your chin, and fuck, you want him, so much so that you let out a low whine.

You want to continue. Desire runs through your body like wildfire, burning him with you, but once you hear the honks of the busy street, the realization of where the fuck the two of you are hits you, and only then you break the kiss.

Standing outside of a bar, kissing like two horny idiots, a pretty giggle escapes your lips when you meet his dreamy gaze again, his hues resembling mostly black now, both sets of pupils blown wide. Passion radiates from both of you.

"Was that enough to prove to you that I really, really, really like you, sweetheart?" He asks with a pretty grin, lips all puffy and smudged with your gloss, earning more hearty giggles and a nod from you.

"Or do you need to kiss me in front of her? Get all territorial?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head, brows raised all teasingly, that smirk returning like it ever left, making you huff.

You elbow him playfully before you fist his shirt, bringing him in much more close proximity, again. "Shut up and kiss me again, Harrington."

[nottsangel]

hiii!! i literally love ur work sm and i was just wondering if you could write something about a sub mattheo ? him whimpering, moaning, begging, overstimulated.. all that..:)

“oh c’mon baby, just let me cum!” mattheo begs, his brown eyes filled with desperation as you lick all the way from his balls, along the shaft, to the leaking tip. you taste the salty precum as you swirl your tongue over the slit, your gaze never leaving his as you stare at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, relishing the power you have over his desperate need to cum. “hmm. i don’t know yet, pretty boy. maybe if you beg for it, i’ll give you what you want… maybe.” you grin amusingly, and he groans in response, feeling frustrated as he bucks his hips up desperately.

“fuck…” he curses defeatedly after being edged for a while now, but you can sense it won’t take long before his submissive side shows— and you were right. “please, please, need it so bad, baby. i wanna feel you around me, wanna feel those pretty lips around my cock. fuck, please!” he pleads erratically, unable to think clearly at this point and fully consumed by desperation. “that’s more like it. but, uh, i don’t know yet…” you tease, satisfied to have him exactly where you want but craving even more.

“fucking hell, baby, i’d do anything for you, alright? just, please! i want— i need it, please, fuck, please!” you nod approvingly with a sly grin plastered on your face before unexpectedly taking him fully into your mouth, the tip of his throbbing cock brushing against the back of your throat. shattered breaths escape his lips at the sudden feeling of being deep inside your warm mouth, causing him to grip the sheets desperately. you don’t waste any more time as you quickly begin to bob your head up and down, your tongue swirling over the sensitive tip each time you come up while your hand firmly covers what your mouth can’t.

“oh fuck, yes, just like that, fuck!” mattheo cries out, biting down hard on his lip at the sensation, his teeth drawing blood from the thin skin. when your hand trails down to massage his balls, he loses control, unable to hold it any longer as choked sobs escape his wide open mouth. “fuck, i’m gonna— i’m gonna fuckin’ cum, please baby, oh, fuck” he blabbers shakily, followed by you feeling a pool of warmth all in your mouth as he throws his head back in ecstasy, a string of curse words slipping from his swollen lips.

it’s when you keep going after he’s cum that pathetic whimpers and whines escape his mouth, and you feel his entire body tense at the overstimulated feeling. “baby, please, ‘s too much, i— i can’t” you smirk around his pulsating cock as you continue to sloppily suck him off, a mix of drool and cum running down your chin and making a mess all over balls. “but i thought you wanted this so bad, hm? you were begging for it just a minute ago, weren’t you?” “shit, baby, y-yes, but i— fuck! ‘s too much now!” “aww… too bad.”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[dizscreams]

Romantic headcanons with lil ol hobie

Absolutely 🫡

Romantic Headcanons with Hobie Brown — ★

I don’t think you guys would go out for dates I think a lot of the time it’s hanging out in each others room

Like he’s strumming his guitar and you’re studying or drawing whatever JUST YES

I think he’d definitely prefer that than taking you out to a fancy restaurant or smth like that

Maybe even movie nights?

Random thought but a little self care night 🤭

Maybe face masks (which he was reluctant to do but you made him anyway), painting each others nails, etc etc

Not really self care but him helping you dye your hair!!! Can’t get that thought out of my head

OMG SHOPPING WITH HIM!! You dragging him shopping and he acts like he doesn’t wanna be there but he actually kinda likes helping you pick out stuff

Don’t even get me started on you making him carry all of your bags or you showing off to him in the dressing room 👀

UGH OMG I HAD A CUTE THOUGHT!! One time he watched you do your makeup and he wanted to learn how to do eye liner

So you taught him one day and he likes doing eye liner every now and again

Maybe you were on his lap and did it for him one day! (He wouldn’t let you do a full face of makeup on him though 😔)

Likes picking out jewelry for your outfits

If you guys are opposites I can see a lot of playful arguments about each others music tastes

He definitely likes at least one song you showed him but wont admit it cause he’s stubborn!

If we’re gonna talk about physical touch I’d say he likes it just definitely not in public

Maybe a hand on your shoulder sometimes but other than that I’m not sure

In private though he’s always leaning his head on your shoulder or putting his head on yours

Likes to tease and make fun of you

Jokingly ofc he’d never let it go too far

He issss in a band so ofc you’re going to almost every performance of his

Veryyy protective when it comes to his job and you

Doesn’t like letting you come to fights with him or trying to help cause he’s terrified you’re going to get hurt

If you’re also a spider person you guys make a rlly good duo

He’s just a really laid back guy in general so he doesn’t raise his voice at you

Maybe on accident a few times but he always apologizes ofc

He’s respectful 🫡

OMG RANDOM BUT NAPPING TOGETHER

WHEWWW imagine you both got done with a fight and you just need to rest so you take a nap together! Or if you’re not a spider person then you both had a hard day and wanted to take a nap together

I don’t think he gets jealous thaaat easily. Like someone would have to be THROWING themselves at you and he’ll step in.

He wouldn’t be starting fights or drama honestly I think he’d just wrap an arm around your waist and walk away with you

I think he’ll go on random tangents about stuff he’s interested in or even abt stuff he doesn’t like 😭

You’re just listening to him like “yeah totally” because he’s talking so fast

He’s proud of your guy’s relationship and he’s caught himself talking about you a lot to his friends

He tries to shut up before they say anything but they’re already teasing him

BUT ID SAY OVERALL he’s just a really chill dude who likes spending time with his partner :)

All I can think of rn so I hope you enjoyed! and ty for all the requests I’ll be working on them all day <3 🫡

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (13) - Tempest

Chapter summary: A much needed conversation takes place... as well as a realisation that might change everything.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: Mentions of trauma.

Word count: 4.6k

Series masterlist . AO3

There was a crack on the ceiling.

A deep scowl settled on your face as you lay sprawled along the large bed, staring at the lightning-like fissure that had caught your attention.

How deep did it run? Had it been there all along? You wouldn't know. After all, you seldom spent time in this room.

His room.

Astarion had never shown interest in moving in with you and the others. He kept to himself and rushed to find accommodation at The Blushing Mermaid. You couldn't really fault him for wanting to keep to himself.

But you still kept this room vacant just in case he changed his mind.

He never did.

Little did you know that it would be a myriad of unfortunate events that had hurled him into this very room.

Until a few nights ago.

He left before you could convince him otherwise. 

Guilt had been boiling in the pit of your stomach ever since, but you had come to accept that some things were out of your control.

The house confinement had been lifted after much insistence on Wyll's part. It no longer seemed appropriate, yet he promised to keep Fists nearby just in case.

Still, Astarion was now free to do as he saw fit.

Wyll had met up with him and he was seemingly doing well.

Seemingly.

The events of that night kept on flashing in your mind, as you sought to find a rational explanation to what could have caused him to stare at you the way he had.

Revulsion.

Disgust.

Had you taken it too far? Maybe you should have suggested for him to feed on you. Maybe you shouldn't have been brought up that night.

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

You could go on forever, going over countless possibilities, but you were not inside his head.

Only he had the answers to your questions.

This was the logical side of you urging your mind to make peace with what is out of your control.

But your heart still clenched and ached and hurt.

Your feelings had been severed from all logic.

You still felt the need to go through that event, desperate to find solace.

That maybe this, too, would pass.

Maybe.

And just as always, a tear detached from the corner of your eye and streamed downwards, leaving a familiar wet trail in its wake.

Glancing around, you could still see so much of him everywhere.

His embroidery set, his books, his shirts, some of his vials of poison.

Even his scent lingered.

You hadn't even bothered drawing the curtains and letting the sun or moon in.

It was as if he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

You heaved a deep sigh as you mustered the strength and will to shift your focus on what you could control.

The crack on the ceiling stared at you and you stared back at it, eventually deciding you should do something about it.

Pushing yourself off the bed, you placed both hands on your hips with newfound determination.

This you could fix.

Maybe.

The door was open, and you yelped in surprise as you saw movement in the corner of your eye.

Wyll was leaning against the doorframe with folded arms and the same kind and soft expression he always held around you.

“I didn't mean to scare you.”

You ran your hands along the silky fabric of the nightdress to adjust it before slipping into your robe, tying it snugly around your waist.

“Oh, I was simply distracted.” you blurted out, hurriedly wiping the wetness from your face.

An understanding smile curved his lips. “I knew I'd find you in his room.”

“It's not his room,” you immediately said. “Well – not really,” you added, fearing you had come across as too harsh.

He arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

Your gaze landed on the ceiling once more. “There's a crack on the ceiling.”

He slowly joined your side and followed your line of sight. “So there is.”

“I need to fix it.”

“You? Now? Do you think the ceiling is giving in?”

You stared at him, perplexed. “What?”

“Do you think it poses danger?” he asked, his eyes on you. “It is quite small.”

There was an argument to be made that the size of things seldom mattered.

Tiny cracks could make way to bigger ones.

Tiny cracks could still hurt.

They could still inflict damage.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you flinched. “Are you well?”

“Yes. Quite.”

An obvious lie you hadn't bothered to flesh out.

He didn't look convinced in the slightest, but didn't press things further.

You enjoyed that about Wyll. He knew exactly when silence was the best and more adequate answer. Sometimes, words just weren't enough.

Eventually, you cleared your throat. “I assume you're not here just visiting.”

“You caught me,” he said playfully, hands laced behind his back. “I come bearing news.”

From the way his face had faintly dropped, you could immediately tell your mood was about to shift in an unwanted direction.

“Ava?”

He nodded. “We still haven't been able to tie her to anything as of yet.”

You felt your stomach clench with dread. “It can't be… she has to be involved somehow.”

“I agree. I have the finest inquisitors trying to break through her facade – if she has one.”

There had to be something.

She had to be responsible.

“What about Rob Sorel? Surely he can be of help.”

A scowl twisted his face. “Nothing as of yet. He has a solid alibi that he insists on roping her into. Besides, he's an established patriar of the city, there is only so much pressure we can apply before tensions rise amongst the noblemen.”

A shaky sigh rushed past your lips. 

Wyll was stuck between a rock and hard place, no doubt. On one hand, he sought to act dutifully and according to his moral code. On the other hand, he was far from being impartial in the matter, and his friendship towards both you and Astarion could be seen as a compromising factor.

“How much time do we have until you have to set them free?”

“Maybe one more day,” he said. “Rob Sorel is the tricky part here. Ava has no power, but he does. He has connections that extend far beyond our reach, and if they take notice that he's imprisoned, it might trigger unforeseeable consequences.”

You began pacing around the room, urged by your nervousness and frustration.

“What of Waterdeep?”

Wyll followed your every move with his eyes. “Gale has yet to encounter anything suspicious that could be tied to her.”

You slumped into a nearby chair and pressed your face into the palms of your hands, letting out a growl. “I am not wrong about this,” you said almost pleadingly, lips quivering. “Wyll. I am not wrong. She – there is something wrong with her. Astarion…”

Your voice trailed off at the mention of his name in your mouth.

It hurt.

A painful jab in your chest rendered you silent, and you lowered your face, anticipating tears of frustration.

Wyll rushed to your side, placing a comforting hand atop your head, patting it gently.

“We will figure this out. You have my word.”

His word held weight. You knew of this. If there was anyone in Baldur's Gate whose word was worth gold, it was Wyll's.

But… “It is not fair. It is not fair that now he doesn't want to pursue this anymore… because of her.”

Wyll dropped to one knee, eye-levelling with you. “Astarion is stronger than we give him credit for, and he is free to choose his own path.”

“What if it's the wrong one?”

“You can't decide that for him,” Wyll reasoned, taking your hand in his. “All we can do now is give him time and respect that.”

Astarion needed time and you needed to find a way to make that realisation less agonising. 

You wanted nothing more than to be a comforting presence to him, but surely not at the expense of his well-being.

Breaking into a sob, you managed to stare into his eyes. “How is he doing?”

Wyll offered the warmest smile. “I believe he is doing well – within reason, that is. He was spotted hunting in the outskirts of the city before I got here.”

That should have put your mind at ease, but it only seemed to make matters worse.

“It's not enough… boars and deers and carrion cannot satiate him as thinking creatures do.”

His hand tightened around yours and his face was firm. “Are you referring to yourself?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I do not mean to pry on your relationship with him, but you're a dear friend of mine,” he began. “I am aware you want to help him get through his hunger, but you don't have to.”

Immediately, you pulled your hand from his grasp as if burned.

You didn’t need to be scolded on this.

“Don’t. Do not do this.”

Wyll fell silent, but there was a hint of sadness sprawled across his features.

Then it quickly dawned on you how unfair you were being towards him. 

“I apologise… you mean well, I know.”

Ever courteous, Wyll shook his head. “I overstepped a line. You care deeply for him and the bond you two share is foreign to me.”

This time, you took his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Wyll also possessed a heart of gold that few could rival with. He never hesitated to take a step back if he believed to be in the wrong.

And he wasn't.

“No, you're right. You're merely looking out for a friend.”

“For both of you, actually,” he promptly corrected. “I care for both of you and I would detest for you to part ways unless as a last resort.”

You inhaled sharply. “We'll figure things out… hopefully.”

Were you trying to convince Wyll or yourself?

He rose to his full height, pulling you up with him. “If there is someone who can figure things out, it's you.”

How you wished that was so, but you accepted his words with a sincere smile.

“Do not fight me on this,” he said, playfully jabbing a finger into your shoulder. “You brought us all together

“It was only possible because of everyone's commitment,” you said truthfully. “Do not fight me on this.”

Wyll chuckled as you used his words against him, raising both hands. “Very well, very well.”

You looped your arm around his, allowing yourself to feel lighter and push the fear and concern aside even if just for a moment.

“It's quite late. You can stay over,” you offered kindly as the two of you headed downstairs.

He patted your hand. “Ah, I would gladly take up that offer, but duty calls.”

“At this hour?”

“The city never sleeps, my dear friend.”

It had to be an exhausting job more often than not, especially with all the unpredictability that came with it.

As you reached the kitchen, you were greeted by a couple of flickering candle lights spread across the room, providing just enough clarity for you to reach the front door.

Your arm slipped from his and you pulled him into a hug, which he reciprocated.

“Take care,” he said, patting your back lovingly. “We'll stay in touch.”

You nodded, fighting back the tears that had begun to prickle at your eyes.

When he finally pulled away, you realised that if Astarion had been there, he would have teased you to death about Wyll.

Alas…

With a final nod, he went out into the cool night, categorically greeted by two Fists that awaited him outside, ready to escort him back.

Just as you were about to close the door shut, Shadowheart's low voice was heard.

“Are you well? Was it a nightmare?”

You turned to face her. “Oh, no. Wyll dropped by to say that they might not be able to hold Ava as a prisoner for much longer.”

It was interesting that despite the abrupt departure from Astarion, you had been able to sleep undisturbed. Not a single nightmare or bizarre dream had plagued your subconscious ever since.

Granted, you had been using the lavender oil Shadowheart had gifted you, but its effectiveness was still debatable.

She grimaced, adjusting her own robes, as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Snivelling little cockroach,” she said with a hiss. “There must be a way to catch her in a lie.”

It was far too late and you were far too exhausted to pursue this matter once again.

You needed to step out and catch some fresh air.

“I'll be in the backyard.”

Shadowheart's quick steps drew near. “Do you want some company?”

“I'd rather be by myself, if that's alright.”

She nodded, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.”

Slipping past the open door, you made your way around the house and towards the back garden that Gale took pride in keeping luscious and vibrant.

You hadn't told any of them what had happened between you and Astarion a few nights ago.

They knew something had happened, but didn't press you for details, which you were thankful for. They assumed he had parted from the group again because of the whole Ava ordeal and that he needed to process things.

But you knew it was related to you. You knew deep inside you that something within him had been triggered and it made your heart clench knowing you were probably the root cause of it.

The gentle night breeze rushed past your cheeks, as you hurried along, barefoot and with only a thin robe to keep any semblance of heat close to your body.

The grass crunched softly under your feet and you only came to a halt once you found yourself surrounded by countless flowerbeds of all shapes and sizes.

You took a deep breath, calmness filling your lungs as the soothing scent of grass and pollen wafted around you.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for now.

The crickets were in full force tonight which only added to the magical ambiance.

For the first time in what seemed like too long, you smiled widely.

You wrapped the robe around you tightly as you sat on the wooden bench by the impressive row of night orchids.

Mindlessly, your hand reached down and you plucked a wilted flower bud that had certainly gone past its time.

It was still as radiant as ever in hues of dark blue and purple.

You twirled the stem in between your fingers as you glanced up to admire the glinting stars high up above, sprawled across the sky.

Bathed in moonlight and surrounded by calm and quiet, you pulled your legs up and pressed them against your chest, resting your chin on your knees.

You vaguely wished you could freeze this moment in time and take in all the beauty that surrounded all of you.

“It's quite a sight.”

You jolted in your seat at the sound of a velvety voice.

Astarion.

Your eyes found his crimson ones in the dark of night, and an overwhelming urge to bolt straight into his arms nearly took over.

But your mind held you back, rooting you in place as you watched him approach.

“The stars, I mean,” he added with a purr, glancing upwards at the starry night sky.

The playful jab didn't go amiss and you felt a faint smile tugging at your lips.

He had uttered that same remark many moons ago, teasing you for entering his field of vision.

And now here he was, entering yours and capturing your attention like he had the first time.

It was as if the very sight of him was a force of nature that slammed mercilessly against your chest, robbing you of air.

Your heart was thumping so hard you could hear each heavy beat in your ears.

You leaned back, taking in the full sight of him.

He looked… well.

He looked fed.

He looked like himself.

But there was this aura about the way he slowly moved that indicated something was amiss.

Silently, he sat next to you, far enough that your heart skipped a fleeting beat.

Should you say something? Ask something? Should you wait for him? 

Astarion eventually turned to stare at you. “It's quite cold tonight yet you're out here wearing nothing but your paper-thin nightdress and an equally useless robe.”

You opened your mouth, but you just couldn't speak.

He slipped the thick cloak off his shoulders and draped it over yours with a click of his tongue.

“You were never one to properly look after yourself, but, darling… do not get sick on me,” he finished with what seemed to be a genuine teasing smile.

Words were stuck in your throat. The fear and dread that you might utter something wrong completely froze you in place.

He looked and talked like your Astarion.

But was he truly being himself?

His gaze dropped to the flower in your hand and he tugged it free from your grip, inspecting it closely.

“Ah, flowers… beautiful, but–”

“–they make for lousy poisons,” you completed, voice coming out raspy.

Another genuine smile ghosted his lips. “Yet it would look even more beautiful on you,” he said, his hand reaching out to tuck the stem behind your ear. “As most things do.”

“Astarion…” you said, swallowing hard.

“I meant every word.”

He was overcompensating and deflecting.

Your heart sank.

It wasn’t that he didn’t mean what he was saying, but you could tell this was an attempt at mending things between you without quite addressing the issue.

And he clearly realised you had seen right through him as he sighed. “Alright, alright… we do need to talk, don't we?”

You nodded silently.

A shiver ran through your body and it wasn't due to the cold breeze.

It was the gripping fear that whatever came next might break your spirit.

He fixed his stare somewhere in the distance before speaking again, “I apologise for leaving so hurriedly that night. I… supposed I got carried away and it felt rather overwhelming.”

Your mouth had dried up. “What did I do wrong?”

This time, he turned his head to fully face you, a sliver of confusion twisting his pleasant features. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me – my head – that got in the way.”

You didn’t believe him.

“You were talking to me and suddenly it was as if I had said something horrifying,” you whispered, doing your best to keep your tone steady. “It was me… it was something I said.”

He paused for a moment. “It is not your fault that this happens. I need you to understand that. Please.”

A lump formed in your throat but you swallowed it right away, not wanting to be bound to silence.

This conversation was long overdue.

“Can I be honest?”

He quickly nodded. “I would expect nothing less from you.”

You collected yourself and your heart. “I don't know how to help you… I don't know what to do…” you said truthfully, lacing your fingers together and unable to face his piercing eyes. “I don't want to be too much… I don't want to trigger you. I do–”

Astarion cut you off immediately. “Look at me. Please.”

He waited for you to do so and only then did he proceed. “There was a time I cursed from having a wriggling worm inside my head. Little did I know that that was the least of my problems. And this is my problem. Not yours.”

You had to bite down on your lower lip to keep it from quivering.

He suddenly looked weary, running a hand along his face. “I am tired – exhausted to have my mind holding my body back. There are times when I can go through with it… and it's mostly thanks to you and your patience.”

There was a part of you that was relieved that he wasn't upset with you.

But a more vicious part of you rose a voice inside your head, telling you he was merely doing damage control.

That he just wanted you for your blood.

“What's that look on your face?” he asked, sounding hurt. “You do not believe me?”

You pushed the mocking voice away and blinked. “No – I just… Astarion… I don't know what to do. I don't. I want to be here for you, but I keep fearing we're pushing it.”

He pressed his lips into a fine line, brows knitted together.

Your legs dropped and you straightened yourself with a sigh, the sudden movement causing the orchid to drop from behind your ear and onto the ground.

“What can I do? How can I help?”

He looked almost offended for a brief moment, but his features eased before he spoke, “I don't want you to treat me like a glasshouse. I don't want pity or mercy. I want whatever you are willing to give me.”

Your heart was beating faster than ever. “And what do you need?”

Silence.

Astarion kept mixing want with need and it often landed him in less than ideal situations.

“To finally be free. I believed facing Cazador and destroying him would grant me freedom, but there is no worse cage than your own mind.”

Now, that was an answer that made your eyes widen. 

Ava had once uttered similar words.

In truth, you expected him to make it all about you, but his words lifted a weight off your shoulders.

But there was still doubt in your mind.

“I can and will be here for you,” you said firmly. “But I need you to promise me something.”

He nodded.

“Please let me know whenever I say or do something that hurts you. That night–”

He held one hand up,  effectively silencing you. “That night was different. It was the timing of it all that caused me to…”

His voice faltered.

You waited for him to find it again.

And he did. “I don't want our relationship to revolve around some silly arrangement to keep me in line. As much as I crave your blood more than anything else, I do not wish for this to feel like a transaction.”

“I've always made it clear that I more than willingly give it to you.”

“Yet my mind tells me I am using you.”

It was as if someone had thrusted a knife into your heart. “Astarion – what? You… you're not.”

The mocking voice inside your head laughed loudly, making your shudder.

“Then don't offer me your blood,” he said. “Feeding on you has become tainted. For now… I can't do it.”

He's a liar. He's used you before and he's playing mind games again.

“You can feed again whenever you're ready,” you said, finding a way to voice your thoughts in the midst of the negativity that had such a tight hold on you. “I know wildlife isn't enough.”

Astarion’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you.”

You nodded.

He didn't know how close you were to breaking into tears. Not from what he was saying, but from the vitriol that your own mind was spewing in regards to him.

He wasn't inside your head, but you were.

And it was awful.

Still, you fought through it. You had to. “I'm here for you.”

You felt his cool fingers brush against yours.

“You don't have to be.”

One by one, your fingers laced with his and you realised your hand was freezing from the cool night air.

But you could still feel his touch.

You could still feel him.

“We can stay as friends.”

Astarion let out a growl of sheer frustration. “Why must you insist on this? Does it truly matter if we are friends or lovers or whatever other social construct you think we should fall under?”

His grip tightened around you, in a silent plea. 

“We're… us. No one is like us,” he went on. “We don't need labels or to follow any relationship rules that some drunkard shoved into a book.”

His last remark earned a chuckle from you, but mostly because he was so right.

“We're us.” you repeated.

“Yes. Whatever that entails. As long as you're comfortable with me, we're us.” 

Slowly but surely, your heartbeat slowed down, falling into a steady rhythm.

“I want you to be comfortable with me, too,” you said. “Just promise to let me in. If you need time and space, I will respect that, just… don't vanish.”

Silly girl, he'll break your heart again, the voice mocked.

“I promise.”

The two of you leaned back against the wooden bench, still quite far apart, but not letting go of each other's hands.

You felt so light it was almost if the faintest of breezes could carry you away, floating across the field of flowers.

But even if it were so, you doubted he'd let go of your hand.

You'd remain anchored to him.

For better or for worse.

You'd either float or sink with him.

You liked the options, because now they existed. Before this conversation, all you had was the impending feeling that the tiniest of cracks would tear through your relationship, and that it would sink.

Now, you had hope.

After a while, you spoke again, “What now?”

His thumb caressed yourse absentmindedly. “What do you mean?”

“We're at a standstill. The Ava situation… finding a way for you to walk in the sun. We're rooted in place, it seems.”

Somehow, he managed a chuckle. “You and I made progress, did we not? Even at the expense of everything else. Isn't that worth something?”

You found him staring at you with those crimson eyes of his and that genuine smirk that always got to you.

“I suppose. You're right… yet I can't help but feel sorry that you seem to be the one with much more to lose.”

He squeezed your hand playfully, earning a gasp from you. “Darling, you don't get it, do you? I've spent hundreds of years unable to form a single bond with anyone that didn't feel tainted or doomed. Until you came along. You and that bleeding heart of yours. If there is a price to be paid for a single meaningful relationship, I'll pay it.”

Your heart clenched and the first tears began to stream down your face.

You adored him.

In that moment, you wished to melt into his embrace.

“Besides, nothing is over yet. We're quite terrific at turning the impossible into possible.”

You chuckled, eyes welling up with more tears. He shifted closer to you, letting go of your hand and brushing both thumbs across your cheeks to wipe them clean.

“There is one regret I have, though.”

A jab of fear poked at you. “What is it?”

He cradled your face in his hands. “You're so cold right now and I cannot warm you up.”

You felt as though you might melt into his touch.

“Is that your only regret?” you asked playfully.

He shook his head. “I suppose not. Striking a deal with Ava might top this.”

Your face dropped instantaneously.

“Oh, I've ruined the moment, haven't I?”

“Maybe,” you said softly as he pulled back. “But we'll get through this. Whether you decide to pursue the Wish spell or not, I am here for you. We are here for you.”

He looked peaceful.

You hadn't seen that expression in a while.

“I remember Ava once saying that pursuing the Wish spell was folly. That I either wished to be cured from vampirism altogether, or that I'd end up some weirdly washed out version of a vampire spawn.”

Oh.

And then your heart plummeted as realisation hit you.

How did you not see this before?

“Astarion?”

“Hmm? What?”

Once again, your heart raced in your chest. “Astarion… who would benefit from you not having your vampirism meddled with?”

He arched an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Dread took over you and flinched away from his grip, bolting to your feet. “By preventing you from getting access to the Wish spell, you remain a spawn… untouched… your blood…”

Astarion's eyes widened.

“Shit.”

TBC

[ln4bub]

Face sitting with Carlos or Daniel and him rubbing his nose against your clit and nearly suffocating just to get you off ty and have a nice day

I love this idea, I’ve split it into two different blurbs - one per driver - because that’s how I imagine it

——————————————

Daniel’s nose would always be the death of you. Your friends always asked what he was like in bed and when you told them he knew how to use every part of his body, they really underestimated what you meant.

Any and every chance Daniel would be down on his knees for you: in the morning, in the shower, against the hotel window, against the door after you get home, against the car. He ate you like you were his last meal on earth, but your favourite will always be when you get a chance to ride his face.

You adore looking down to see him staring back at you, watching the way your body moves above him. His tongue always felt incredible between your legs, flicking and swirling, covering every inch of you. And his mouth, sucking and nibbling, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

But it was his nose that made everything feel otherworldly.

Whenever his large hands come to rest on your ass, giving it a gentle slap to let you know that he wants you to start moving. He'd guide you lightly at first, encouraging the soft grind of your hips. It never took long for you to steady useful with one hand on the headboard and one pulling his hair.

Every pass of your hips caused his nose to bump your clit, shockwaves shooting up your spine as you got closer and closer to your release. He'd mumble words of encouragement, the sound getting smothered by your pussy.

One final grind against his nose sends you over the edge, your hips stilling as he greedily swallows your release. You'd lift off him, legs shaking, only to look down and see his glistening lips and nose with a smirk painting his face.

Carlos is a man starved when he gets his mouth on you, not letting up for a second to breathe. He lets you start slow, hovering lightly over him as he runs his tongue between your folds.

Once he notices that your legs are starting to ache he wraps his arms around your thighs, tugging you down onto his face. The stubble covering his jaw burns your inner thighs as he buries his face into you. His tongue works wonders, tasting every inch of you; swirling around your clit, flicking in and out of your entrance.

His large hands never leave your thighs, holding you to his mouth. Even when your thighs begin to tighten around his head and your hips begin grinding against his tongue he never lets go. You can hear his heavy breaths as he continues to eat you out, your orgasm overtaking your whole body.

He moans against you, the vibrations against your sensitive pussy causing your hips to jerk. You lean onto your knees, lifting your hips away from Carlos' tongue. He growls at your attempt to remove yourself, pulling you back down and continuing what he started.

He doesn't stop until he sends you hurtling into your second orgasm and then your third, your pussy swollen with his efforts. His chin is dripping in your juices when he finally lets up to breathe, neck glistening and red lips swollen.

His hair is wild and his pupils are dilated, hungry to draw one more orgasm from you with his cock.